Well well. Look who is no longer sleeping. No, we have not been awake for very long. Just three or four hours. Okay, maybe five. It is fine. We were just having breakfast. Lunch, actually. But we like to eat early around here, as you may have noticed. Do not sweat it. You are fine. Did you need to hit the shower before you sat at the table with us, though?
Help yourself to some sausages. We have eggs too. And everything has already been seasoned with our own family-made brand of chili rub. Yes, everything. We did not think that you would mind. Oh, you do not like chili rub on your pancakes? Here, let me get you the menu from our favorite local deli. I think they deliver.
How did you sleep? Was our bed to your liking? We like sleeping in it every night, but we do not mind giving it up when a guest like yourself is in town. Especially a guest who enjoyed it as much as you seemed to. It is no sacrifice to sleep on Ethan’s old futon from college. The taco sauce stains only serve to give it a friendly aroma. It brings us back to the cheap Mexican takeout of our youth.
Say, have you seen Aunt Alice? Funny - she usually wakes up by this time. Especially on holidays. Comes straight down here to the kitchen and shoots the breeze with us. Wait until you hear her story about winning the Garment District Ring Toss Contest of ‘39. She came in fifty-seventh place, but oh, the way she tells it... You will be bawling your eyes out over your pancakes - which you do not seem to be eating. Is it the rub? Be honest with us, please. Oh okay. Well, let us know when you are ready for more, then.
We left some towels out for you. A body towel, a washcloth, and one of those in-between sizes you can use however you wish. Wet or dry - either way is fine. Soap, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and hair gel are all on the bathroom countertop as well. Products we use ourselves before we come downstairs and sit with others. Do not mind our silly and overly-considerate ways. Everyone handles personal hygiene differently. I am sure being a little more naturale at communal meals is considered normal where you are from.
No Aunt Alice yet, huh? Honey, can you go check on her? I do not want her to miss the spaghetti squash. I made it just the way she likes it. Slathered with rub. It would be a shame if she came down and it was all gone. Not that you would eat any of it. You eat like a baby.
We have big plans on the schedule for you today. Do you remember that brochure we mailed you about the Fuzzy Mountain Travelin’ Band? Well, they will be performing in the town square later on. In half an hour. I guess you will not be ready by the start of the show. No problem. We have seen their set a few times before. Twenty-eight times. We have all the albums in RealPlayer format. We can listen to them on our refurbished Rio Music Player from 1998 through its tiny speaker as we drive over to catch the end of their concert. Be sure to stay as quiet as possible so as not to drown out the music that nourishes our very souls.
Speaking of the drive. I hope you do not mind sitting in the back. By this I mean the deep back. We recently discovered that if we adjust the doughnut and jack just right, we are able to fit a human body back there. But the dogs cannot fit there because they are too rambunctious when they see other drivers. So they will sit in the middle row while you sit behind them. We appreciate you doing that. And if the dogs nip or snarl as your face is trapped next to their quivering snouts, do not worry. They rarely bite, and when they do, it is only a warning. Or they are hungry.
So let me grab your plate, since you seem to be finished, and we can-- what, honey? Okay. Let me see it. The living room? Why should I go over-- Okay. Pardon me for a second.
...you did? I thought the passcode wasn’t working. Well, okay then. Show me the surveillance footage. Roll it back to 1:35 a.m. Careful with that jog wheel. Good, good. Wait. Stop it right there. Is that her? But I thought she was staying in the other room. Now what are they doing over-- Oh for goodness… okay, let me have a word...
We are going to have to ask you to leave. Yes - now. I am sorry, but you will just have to catch up with the Fuzzy Mountain Travelin’ Band's folksy tunes another time. I just saw the security camera footage from last night. Uh huh. I know you polished off the grain alcohol before you retired for the evening, but that does not excuse what you did. Aunt Alice is not your ragdoll. The woman fought for our freedom in Myanmar (then Burma). Her bones are brittle now. They are dry twigs within her withered flesh. We are getting her out of the bed now. Out of our bed, where she is delirious. Saying she is in love. Such nonsense. Love is for wayward teenagers and railroad tramps. Everyone knows that.
Your clothes are outside. We have placed them in an old kit bag. Do not question it. Just take them and go. Get your stinky butt out of here. Yes, I was hinting about your bodily stench earlier. You completely missed that. We may be able to forgive you some day, but probably not. We are people of faith, but our faith in you has soured like the chili rub you refused to eat. The chili rub we sell at local farmers' markets for a premium price, mind you. Everyone loves it.
Hit the road, and do not send us postcards. Our mailman reads them. We have asked him to stop many times and even reported him to his superior, but we still have our suspicions.
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